


Tack

by thedropoutandthejunkie (elenajames)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bondage, Dom Cain, Duct Tape, M/M, Painplay, Sub Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 14:39:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6055276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenajames/pseuds/thedropoutandthejunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has a confusing relationship with pain. He has a less confusing one with Cain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tack

Laying naked on the kitchen table feels hedonistic. Smooth, solid wood supports his weight, and his feet dangle just over the edge. Sam’s hair is still wet from the shower, smelling sweetly of the flowery soap Cain favors. Warm summer air flows in through the open windows, making the curtains flutter and drying the last of the dampness on Sam’s skin. 

  


There’s a collection of restraints waiting on the counter, metal and leather gleaming. Sam lets his head loll to the side, losing himself in the swirled pattern of the wallpaper. 

  


Cain’s washing dishes, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and foam halfway up his forearms. The rhythmic clinking and splashing is oddly soothing, a normality so profound that it eases some of Sam’s hesitation about being left on display like this. 

  


The last dish clinks into place in the drying rack, and Cain dries his hands on the waiting kitchen towel, turning around as he does so. Blue eyes fix steadily on Sam, a weighty gaze that could keep him pinned where he is all on its own. Sam glances up, meeting Cain’s eyes briefly before dropping back down to his folded arms. 

  


Damn, those arms. Thick and strong and powerful enough to move Sam around like he’s a child instead of a full-grown man. He’s been spanked raw by those solid hands, held down on the bed, and dragged back onto the girthy cock hiding in those jeans until he screamed. He shivers at the memories, cock twitching where it lays soft between his thighs.

  


Finally, Cain steps towards the table and the first step is enough to send a thrill through Sam. Cain moves him where he wants, sliding his legs apart by gripping his ankles and pulling them to opposite sides of the table. Sam stays relaxed, allowing Cain to put him where he wants and buckling him into the soft leather cuffs. One set goes around his ankles and another around his thighs to keep his legs up and apart with the spreader bars between them. His arms get similar treatment, although without the bar. Instead, each wrist his connected to the legs of the table with a short length of chain. 

  


The ripping sound of tape fills the room and Cain sticks each piece to the edge of the table, ringing Sam in silver. He leaves the roll on the counter next to the now-empty box and takes another moment to study Sam. 

  


His chest is first. A single piece gets smoothed over his chest, arching over his left pec. Sam can’t contain the yell when it’s ripped off in one smooth motion. He jerks in place, body lifting away from the table. Cain takes his time laying out the next piece, its placement a mirror of the first. 

  


A path of stinging pain gets made down Sam’s torso, detouring to the sensitive skin of his inner arms and down his ribcage. The first piece to get torn off his treasure trail makes him yelp, and his cock bounces when his body jolts. Cain’s merciless though, steadily moving toward more heavily-furred areas. He goes from Sam’s torso to his ankles to the backs of his knees, and then to his inner thighs. Longer pieces get smoothed around to where buttcheek meets leg, tearing another stuttering yell from Sam’s throat. 

  


Still, his cock is wet where it lays on his belly, leaving a tacky-slick trail of precome as he moves around. 

  


Sam can feel his heart beat faster and his breathing pick up when Cain presses a little piece to his perineum. It’s the smallest yet, but by far the scariest. His shout sounds tortured, even to himself, and - not for the first time - he’s grateful their nearest neighbors are miles away. 

  


He wants to beg when tape gets placed over his balls, sticking to the hair covering them; the tape is long enough that it covers the skin alongside his cock and he’s sure he can’t take this. Sam can’t find his voice though, can come up with no words of protest when Cain gives him the briefest of looks, offering an out for the first time tonight. 

  


“If you can, you may come.” There’s no pause between Cain’s words and the moment he rips off the first piece. Sam screams flat out, legs kicking and back arching as his body instinctively tries to escape the pain inflicted on such a tender area. The bonds do their job, keeping him in place and he slumps down, thighs shaking as he tries to force them shut against the strength of the spreader bar. 

  


“One more,” Cain murmurs, running a hand down the abused skin of Sam’s thighs as he reaches for the last piece of tape. This scream catches on a sob of breath, and Sam gets lost in a haze, managing to choke in a gasp as he comes, thrashing helplessly. 

  


Residue gets washed away with hot water and homemade soap. Cain rubs arnica into the chafed and bruising places on his wrists and ankles and strokes lotion onto the rest of his abused skin. Sam just floats in the aftermath of pain and pleasure, warm and secure under Cain’s sure hands. 

  
  



End file.
